Because Dude, he's my Best Friend
by Madam RedRose25
Summary: On the way to school, Stan has a severe asthma attack. Cartman refuses to help. What can Kyle do to save his best friend in time?


_A/N__: A one shot of the bonds of Kyle and Stan's friendship. There seems to be more Stan worrying over Kyle fics so I had to do the opposite. Stan _does_ have asthma; it _is_ canon, so I thought it would be the perfect idea. I hope you like!_

**BECAUSE DUDE, HE'S MY BEST FRIEND**

It was 8 o'clock in the morning and four boys were currently trudging through the thick snow that had fallen overnight. Snow was still floating down onto the earth. All four boys were muttering angrily under their breath.

"I cannot believe we have to walk all the way to school today," the boy with the green hat, Kyle Broflovski spat.

"Yeah, why did the school bus have to break down yesterday?" the boy with the orange hood pulled over his face, Kenny Mc Cormick mumbled.

"Because the bus driver is a complete ass that's why," Eric Cartman, the fat boy in the red coat growled.

"Look who's talking," Kyle muttered to Kenny who giggled.

"Ai!" Cartman cried.

Kyle and Kenny continued to laugh. Kyle looked behind him to see the fourth boy lagging behind.

"Hurry up Stan or we'll be late," Kyle told his best friend.

"Hold up you guys," Stanley Marsh called as he pulled his brown coat around him.

Cartman suddenly broke into life. "Oh! Oh! You guys! You guys! Guess what I have? Guess what I have!" he began to dance around.

"Move your fat ass, you're blocking the sidewalk," Kyle said.

Cartman smiled and reached into his pocket and pulled forth a flat black object.

"A cell phone?" Kenny asked.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" and Cartman began to dance around again.

"What's so special about a stupid cell phone?" Kyle asked, annoyed.

"I have a cell phone and yoooouuu don't! Oh yeah! It can play music- and and- and I can text- and it has a camera," he boasted.

"Yeah, so?" Kyle said.

Cartman glared. "I am the first one to have a cell phone out of the four of us! Ne-ne-ne-ne-neeeeeehhhh!"

"You don't even need a cell phone douche bag, you don't have any friends," Kyle glared.

Kenny laughed.

"You're just jeeeeaalous Jew boy! Ai! I thought you Jews were loaded, where's your phone then? Huh? Huh?" Cartman poked in Kyle's face.

"I'm nine years old, I don't need one. Now come on. You too Stan, you're almost walking as slow as dick face right here," Kyle nodded towards Cartman.

"You do not call me dick face, or I'll- I'll kick you in the nuts!" Cartman struggled to say.

Kyle rolled his eyes at Cartman's daily threat. He frowned as Stan continued to take his time keeping up. He walked to him. "You okay dude?"

"Yeah, of course," Stan said.

"Well come on. We have a history quiz this morning and I want to be good and ready for it," Kyle said gleefully.

Stan frowned as he caught up with his friends. "Um, how- how much further to school?"

"I'd say fifteen more minutes," Kyle answered.

"Oh."

"Why?"

"No reason dude," Stan gave a feeble smile.

They continued to walk, all three boys gaining headaches from Cartman who was busy showing off his new phone.

"Oh yes, ah know. Ah know Mr. Johansen but there's nothing ah can do about it," Cartman was speaking into his phone. "A Ban All the Jews Out of Colorado Act? Why, what a _great_ idea. Why didn't ah think of that?" he said sarcastically.

"Shut up Cartman," Kyle growled.

"Shh, I'm on the phone," Cartman put his finger to his lips.

"You aren't talking to anyone fatass," Kyle argued.

"You're just jeeaaalous that I have a cell phone now and yoooou don't."

"Am not dick wad!"

Kyle glanced to his right where Stan was walking next to him. He stopped. There was a troubled look on his face. "You sure you're okay dude?"

Stan looked up. "Well, now that you mention it… it's well, pretty cold out."

"Yeah…"

Stan bit his lip. "I don't do well in temperature changes."

"What do you mean?" Kenny said in his muffled voice.

Stan looked a little worried. "I'm having trouble breathing."

"Trouble breathing?" Kenny said, stopping too.

"Yeah."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Why do you have to make things so difficult for yourself Stan? Just use your inhaler so we can get to school on time."

"I don't want to slow you down."

"We're already being slowed down by Cartman's wide load."

"Right." Stan opened his backpack on the sidewalk and took out his asthma inhaler.

Kyle began to walk as soon as his friend put the mouthpiece to his lips and pressed. But seconds later he stopped when he realized Stan wasn't following behind him.

"Something up?"

Stan had a look of panic on his face now but was trying not to show it. He shook his inhaler and tried to press. "C'mon," he muttered.

"You guys are sooo slow," Cartman moaned.

Stan shook his inhaler again. "N-no- how?"

"What is it?" Kyle asked.

Stan shook his asthma inhaler again. "It's- it's empty."

"Empty? How?" Kenny asked.

"I don't know- I thought I had plenty left. I mean, I _thought_ I did…"

"Sure you aren't getting it mixed up with another inhaler?" Kyle asked.

Stan bit his lip. "I don't- think so."

Kyle frowned. "Do you think you can make it to school?"

Stan drew in a shaky breath. "I hope. Just- can we just wait a few minutes? So I can catch my breath?"

Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Well, sure dude if you think that will help," Kyle said.

Stan nodded and with shaky legs sunk into the snow. Kyle, Kenny and Cartman stood by, the fattest of the group getting impatient.

"Ah don't have all day to wait for you little pussy," Cartman told Stan.

"Why do you care? You don't even like school," Kyle told him.

"Ah have to show everyone that I'm the first person who has his very own cell phone! Which _you_ wish _you_ had," Cartman teased.

"I do not!"

"Guys, please," Stan said heavily.

Five minutes went by and Stan was not feeling the way he hoped. On the contrary, he felt worse. His chest was beginning to tighten and the timing of his breaths was coming in shorter and shorter. He tried to calm himself down but it was too hard, it was always hard for him to calm himself down when he was having an asthma attack. He wasn't one to get worked up over things but when it came to asthma, that's when he really panicked. He hated the feeling of not being able to breathe, how would one get used to such a thing?

"Stan," Kyle said carefully.

Stan could feel his eyes sting now. "My chest- hurts."

"Come on, I'll help you the rest of the way to school. I'll take you to the nurse's office first thing."

Fifteen more minutes. They still had fifteen more minutes left to reach school. In the snow. For Stan, it seemed like another hour.

"Come on dude," Kyle reached to pull his friend to his feet.

Stan gulped in the dry icy air as he legs wobbled. Kyle placed an arm around his neck to steady him.

"You guys are such fags," Cartman noted.

"At least I care fat ass," Kyle snapped.

"You better be careful what you say to meh Kahl. Ah can phone the head of the Ban All the Jews out of Colorado Act right now," Cartman warned.

Stan could feel his skin crawl and his head felt lightheaded. "Please- please, just let me- catch my breath- a little longer."

"We'll be late," Kyle reminded him.

Stan sat back on the sidewalk. His chest tightened, his breath was shorter. His back aching. He was now wheezing.

"Shit dude, just- just try to calm down. I'll get you to the nurses' office pronto," Kyle said with a furrowed brow.

Stan shook his head. "I can't- I don't think I can- walk that far."

"I'm sure as hell ain't carrying you," Cartman told him.

"I don't- _want_ to be car-carried," Stan bit back.

Kyle was kneeling next to him. Stan bit his lip and rested his head on the stone wall behind them. He tried to remain focused, tried to focus on the fresh air. But he couldn't- the air was too dry; he hated whenever the weather changed, whenever it grew colder or warmer. It was a sure sign for an asthma attack. No one said anything for several more minutes. Kyle didn't know what he should do- if Stan couldn't walk fifteen more minutes to school, how else was he to get him there? _Why_ couldn't have any of their mothers drop them off at school this morning?

"I- can't breathe"- Stan finally spoke and tears welled in his eyes as he gripped his pants.

"Shit- I don't know what to do dude! What can we do?" Kyle asked him. He then turned his head over and spotted Cartman who was busy playing with his cell. He turned back to Stan. "I'm going to call an ambulance okay?"

"It's- not that-serious," Stan choked out.

"Dude, you can't breathe! You can't walk the rest of the way to school and none of us can drive yet. The only way you'll get help is to call 911."

"But I- it- never"- Stan impatiently wiped away his tears. "It's been-years since- that's happened."

"I know, I know…" Kyle could remember years ago when they were six. He had invited Stan along with his family for a fun weekend camping. His dad had taken the boys into the woods for a fun hike, but it turned to panic when Stan had troubles breathing and forgotten his inhaler at the camp site. It didn't help that they were lost, lost somewhere on the hiking trail without any phones around. It had been a painful thirty minutes before they found a park ranger who had quickly called for an ambulance and Stan was rescued it time.

The memory still haunted Kyle to this day. He could still see the look of sheer panic in his best friend's eyes. He thought he was going to die. Ever since then, any time Stan had to pause whatever they were doing due to his breathing, he went into protective brotherly mode. Sure they weren't brothers but as far as he was concerned, they were just as close. He feared the day he would see his best friend loaded into an ambulance for the very same reason as their hike.

Kyle shook his head. "Stan, I have no choice. I'm going to call. Even if we spot an adult who has a phone you still have to go to the hospital."

Stan didn't respond, he was too focused on trying not to pass out.

Kyle went over to Cartman.

"And just what do you think you're doing Jew?" he asked.

"I need to use your phone Cartman," Kyle held out his hand.

"Oh? And what for?"

"Stan's having an asthma attack dumb ass!"

"Oh, suddenly mah phone is cool is it?" Cartman said with interest.

"I need to use it!"

"Oh ah don't think so Kahl. Using mah phone comes at a price."

"Damnit Cartman I don't have time for this! I need to call 911!" the boy with the green hat said impatiently.

"No no no no noooooo, n-n-n-no," Cartman sang.

"I'm going to kick your ass if you don't give it to me!"

"Using it comes at a price Kalh," Cartman repeated.

"Fine, what?"

"You have to give me one million dollars."

"What? I don't have one million dollars!"

"You do so! You and all the rest of you Jews go home every night and bathe in your piles of gold! Ah know what I'm talking about Kahl!" Cartman pointed his finger at him.

"I don't have one million dollars! Let me call 911 so I can save Stan's life!"

"No one million, no phone."

"Stan could die if he doesn't get help soon!"

"Yeah!" Kenny chimed in.

"Don't you care? Is there any sliver of a heart inside all the blubber of yours?" Kyle asked.

"Hand it over," Cartman held out a yellow gloved hand.

"I don't have any! You're stalling time!"

"Then you don't get mah phone."

"This isn't a matter of want Cartman, this is an _emergency_!"

"If it were an emergency you'd hand over the money wouldn't you?"

"I don't have any fucking money!" Kyle screamed.

Cartman held his hand out still, expecting something to be handed into it.

Kyle looked over at Stan. Tear tracks were down his face, he was turning paler. The sound of his body trying to draw in breaths was almost too painful to listen to. He didn't have to know what if felt like to not breathe to know Stan was in trouble.

"The- one million," Cartman said again.

"Arrrggghh!" Kenny screamed finally and tackled Cartman to the ground. He had his hands around his neck.

"Get off me you poor piece of shit!" Cartman cried.

After some struggle Kyle was finally able to grab the cell phone from Cartman.

"Ai! Get your filthy Jew hands off mah phone!"

Kenny was still able to hold Cartman down so Kyle could use the phone. With shaky fingers Kyle dialed 9-1-1.

"911 emergency," spoke a cool female voice on the other end.

"My friend is having an asthma attack. Please help," Kyle told him.

"Okay. How long has he been having troubles?"

"I don't know, a half hour by now."

"How old is he?"

"He's nine."

"Alright, where are you located?"

"In the middle of Pastor Road , near the old abandoned house."

"Alright, I'm sending an ambulance right away."

"Thanks," Kyle said gratefully.

"What's your name dear?"

"Kyle."

"Kyle, don't hang up on me okay? Try to keep your friend calm alright? And whatever you do, try to keep him conscious. If he passes out for any length of time tell me right away," the lady on the other end said sweetly.

"I will," Kyle told her. He turned to Stan who was gripping onto his pants in pain and frustration. "Stan, Stan, dude, you have to stay awake alright?"

"I'm- trying. It hurts"-

"I know, I know."

Kyle bit his lip looking anxious. Hell's Pass Hospital was almost a half hour away, he really hoped the ambulance they sent would come here very soon.

Meanwhile, Stan was doing all he could to calm himself down. But it never worked- all these years, all his doctor appointments, all the things everyone told him to do to control his breathing- he could never get it right. They didn't know what it felt like to not be able to draw in breath, the weight of an elephant on their chest, how light-headed your head felt when you couldn't breathe… he couldn't help it, when he felt an asthma attack coming on, he panicked. He was too afraid something drastic would happen if he didn't get help fast. Just like his camping incident three years ago, just like this moment now.

"Stan, dude, you have to stay calm alright? You have to," Kyle was telling him.

"I- _can't_! It hurts! I can't- breathe!" the black-haired boy argued back.

"I know you can't breathe dude but panicking makes it worse."

"You don't- know"-

"I do, you've been my best friend since preschool. You've had it since then. This has happened plenty of times before," Kyle reminded him.

Perhaps, but he never ran out of medicine before. He couldn't remember the last time he did. This was different.

_Try to calm down_, his brain told him. _Kyle's right, you can't panic now_. But another voice interrupted. _**You can't breathe dumbass! Of course you panic!**_ Stan lay down in the snow hoping that would help. He shut his eyes.

"Hey, stay awake Stan, come on," Kyle told him shaking his shoulder.

"Yeah, you can do it," Kenny said, leaning over him.

Cartman rolled his eyes as he came close to the other boys. That Jew was taking way too long with his phone and wasting his minutes. He then caught a real look at his suffering friend for the first time. He was almost as pale as the snow and the sounds of his body trying to draw in oxygen sounded painful, and his stomach was pulling in like he never seen it before.

"Stan?" Cartman said carefully.

His head felt much too light. Nothing made sense anymore. Try as he might he couldn't draw in a breath. There were stabbing pains in his back. He could feel his feet turn cold and his arms grow fuzzy and numb. He passed out.

"Stan? Stan! Stan!" Kyle shook his friend roughly now. "You have to stay awake!"

"Did your friend pass out?" said the woman on the other end of the phone.

"Yes!"

A minute later Kyle almost fainted himself but out of relief. He saw red flashing lights, the ambulance had come. He told the operator and hung up.

"He passed out a minute ago!" was the first thing Kyle told them.

"What is his name?" asked one of the paramedics.

"Stan."

The boy with the green hat watched in fear as two paramedics kneeled next to Stan and tried to resuscitate him. It had never gotten this bad before- never. The few times Stan had to use asthma medicine each week was fine, but Stan had never passed out due to the condition before. This scared Kyle. He turned his head to take a look at Cartman. He was watching the paramedics and Stan with an almost fearful look in his eye, if that were possible. Kyle glared at him.

"I swear it Cartman, if Stan dies today because you could have given me your phone sooner- I will fucking tear you apart and feed your sick remains to angry sharks," Kyle said threatening, a finger at the fat boy's face.

"Ai, ah don't want him to die," Cartman said in defense.

Kyle took a step forward. "I swear it Cartman," he said viciously.

A minute later the paramedics had Stan loaded on a stretcher.

"We have to take him to the hospital. Are his parents around?" the paramedic with brown hair addressed the boys.

"They're both at work," Kyle told him.

"Well, do one of you boys want to ride with him back to the hospital? For moral support?"

Kyle gave a half glance at Cartman and Kenny before raising his hand. "I will."

"Alright kid, hurry up. You two should go to school then, I'm sure you'll be informed on your little friend's condition later," the man told Cartman and Kenny.

Kyle hopped into the back of the ambulance with the paramedic and seconds later, they were off. Cartman and Kenny watched the van until it turned a corner and was out of sight before walking the rest of the way to school.

"Is he going to be okay?" Kyle asked the man with brown hair.

"I'm doing the best I can," was what he told him.

Kyle did not like that answer.

"Has he had complications like this before?"

"Nothing this serious. He had a pretty severe attack a few years ago."

"I have to start an IV. Would you mind helping?" the man, Brian asked the boy with the green hat.

"Of course."

Kyle had to do all he could to save his best friend. He helped by holding onto the mask that was covering Stan's mouth and pumping the end of it like Paramedic Brian had been doing. Brian was finally able to successfully start the IV line in Stan's hand. Kyle could feel himself shaking; if only Cartman had given him his phone earlier… if only… then the paramedics could have come sooner.

"His parents- they have to know," Kyle said suddenly.

Brian glanced up from monitoring Stan's vitals. He took out a cell phone and handed it over. "Yes, call them up son."

"Kyle."

"Kyle then."

Kyle quickly phoned Randy and Sharon Marsh. They were of course very worried and thanked him for informing them before telling him they were on the way to the hospital at once. Kyle frowned as he looked upon the white face of his friend. Part of him wanted to yell at him because he felt he had done this to himself. _He_ was the one who never learned how to properly calm himself down during an attack causing things to go from bad to worse. But another part of him said that was wrong. Stan did not like his disease and he couldn't blame him for getting worked up about it.

Suddenly Stan's eyes parted open. Kyle almost fainted in relief again.

"Hey Stan, you have to stay awake for me now okay kid?" Brian told him.

There was a look of confusion and pain on his friend's face. Kyle did not like it at all. This was the very look he had been hoping to avoid since they were six. He wanted to comfort him somehow but he didn't know how. How does a nine-year-old boy comfort their friend? He gingerly touched Stan's left hand.

"It's going to be okay dude, we'll be at the hospital very soon and your parents are coming now as well," he told him.

Stan just continued to look at him with wide frightful eyes. They soon reached the hospital. Kyle leapt out of the van and followed the paramedics into the Emergency room. He was just about to follow them inside when a doctor stepped forward.

"You have to stay out here son," he said.

"But"-

"I'm sorry. You'll get news of your little friend soon." With that, the doctor walked behind the doors.

Cursing, Kyle took a seat on a bench nearby. A few minutes later he saw Stan's parents, Sharon and Randy Marsh hurry towards him.

"Kyle! Oh my goodness, what happened?" Sharon asked.

"Stan had a pretty severe asthma attack," he told her.

"How? He should have had an inhaler on him!" Randy cried.

"He did but it was empty."

"_Empty_? How could it be empty? How many times do we have to remind him that"-

"Randy, now isn't the time," Sharon snapped.

" Sharon "-

"Thank-you so much for telling us dear," Sharon told Kyle.

"Yeah…"

Stan's parents took up a seat next to Kyle and together, they waited. It seemed like forever. Horrible thoughts kept running through Kyle's mind. Would Stan be okay? Would he make it? And even if he did, would there be any lasting effects? He didn't know if asthma could grow worse over time.

_What if he doesn't make it? It's never been this bad before,_ a voice told him in his mind. _Not being able to breathe… that's a pretty serious problem. Anything can happen_. He couldn't lose his best friend, he couldn't. Stan had worried himself already once before, skiing down a giant mountain when he didn't even know _how_ to ski. Falling ill after not eating any meat, all to protect little baby cows. Plus plenty of other times as well. But this time- he really felt afraid for him. This time it seemed more serious. But even if he made it or not, one thing was for certain, as soon as Kyle saw Cartman again he was going to give _him_ a kick in the nuts for a change.

The doors finally opened after what seemed like hours. The same doctor who stopped Kyle from entering stepped out.

"Is he alive doctor?!" Randy cried, shaking the man.

Sharon pulled her husband off the man. The doctor straightened his askew glasses.

"Your son is alive Mr. Marsh," he said.

"Oh praise the lord!" Randy beamed.

Sharon rolled her eyes at her overdramatic husband. "How is he doctor?" she asked him.

"Stanley had a pretty severe asthma attack as you now know. His right lung has collapsed."

"Oh no," Sharon gasped.

"Is- what does that mean?" Kyle asked the doctor. A collapsed long sounded life-threatening.

"A collapsed lung, otherwise known as pneumothorax is when air or gas is present in the chest cavity. It is pretty common to asthma sufferers. It would explain why Stanley felt his body grow numb and his back hurting."

"Is he going to be okay?" Randy asked.

"He will. He is very lucky; it was a small pneumothorax so it will be fairly easy to treat. However, I would like him to stay here for a couple days so I can monitor his progress and make sure he doesn't get worse," the doctor explained.

"Thank-you so much Doctor- Davies," Sharon said gratefully, reading his nametag.

He gave her a friendly smile. "Happy to help out Dr. Doctor's patients when he's not around."

"Really, thanks," Kyle told the man.

He smiled again. "I heard you helped out Brian on the way here young man."

"I had to, Stan's my best friend. He'd do the same for me," Kyle said confidently.

"Well it's a good thing he has a friend like you." He looked up. "You can visit him shortly; he's being transported to a recovery room at the moment. A nurse will take you there."

With a nod, he left. Sharon suddenly gasped. "Kyle, maybe you should phone your mother so she knows you're here. I'm sure the school will be calling home since you aren't there."

"Yeah."

His mother was very upset he was not at school but grateful all the same he had a good excuse as to why he wasn't. Although she had to speak to Sharon about it first, the boys had used the 'Stan had an asthma attack' excuse countless times before to get out of trouble.

"Do you want us to take you home or do you want to stay around to visit Stan?" Sharon asked Kyle.

"I want to stay."

"Sure you don't want to come by later with the rest of your friends?" Randy asked him.

"I'm sure," Kyle said darkly. He did not want to meet up with Cartman just yet for he was afraid he might kill him. Even if Stan would be alright he still could have gotten to the hospital sooner.

Ten minutes later Sharon, Randy and Kyle were led to Stan's room. Kyle allowed the parents time with their son before he walked in. Stan was currently resting, his eyes were closed and his blue snow cap was off, his shaggy black hair lying on the pillow. His breathing was much slower now, another relief for the red head. He was hooked up to two IVs now, and vital monitors, and a mask was over his nose and mouth. Deciding it best to talk to him when he was awake, Kyle left the room and was taken back home by Stan's parents.

That night Stan was given a little surprise.

"There are some people who want to visit you Stanley," smiled the nurse who had been checking up on him. She opened the door and in walked Kyle, Kenny, Cartman and even Butters. He looked surprised but grateful at his friends. The nurse walked out.

"How- how are you doin' Stan?" Butters asked nervously.

Stan shrugged. "Better."

"Look- we made you a card- it- it was Kyle's idea," Butters smiled and handed over a large red piece of cardstock that held various greetings from the boys and a few others in their class.

"Like it? I thought we should wait until tomorrow so the whole class could sign but Kyle want-wanted to do it today," Butters explained, rubbing his hands together nervously as usual.

Stan gave a tired but thankful smile as he read the card. "Thanks you guys."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Kenny asked.

"I will be- in a few days," Stan said, drawing in a deep breath.

"Dude, maybe it's best you not talk for a while," Kyle pointed out.

"But I'm- doing better," Stan insisted.

Kyle rolled his eyes. Why was he so stubborn at times?

"Well I better be going Stan. My parents will be awfully sore if I'm not home by dinner," Butters told him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks," Stan told him and the little blonde boy walked out.

Cartman leaned forward this time. He looked as if he was fighting off something large in his mind. He gave a deep sigh.

"Sorry I dinnit give Kyle mah phone sooner Stan," he said in one breath, it was barely audible.

Stan raised a brow.

"I said it once and I'll say it again- I've always hated Kahl more than you, so I don't want you ta die," Cartman said, again, regretfully.

Stan was waiting, as if expecting him to say more, but he didn't want to get his hopes up.

Cartman sighed again. "Well I've said all I needed ta say. See ya Stan," and he walked out.

Kyle glared at the fat boy as he walked out before turning to Stan. "What a bastard," he said crossly.

Stan shrugged. "He said-sorry. Nothing more- I could ask- for."

"But Stan, he"-

"I know what he- did. And he said-sorry."

"No he didn't, he barely apologized!" Kyle raged.

Stan blinked heavy eyelids. "Were you expect-expecting a heartfelt- poem from him? It's fine."

"Stan"-

"Will you- stop it?" Stan said harshly. "What's done is- done. Stop- jumping down- him for everything."

Kyle bunched his hands into fists. It was too hard to keep his anger in check at times.

"I'll see you tomorrow as well Stan," Kenny told him and walked out the room, leaving Kyle there with him.

Stan's eyes were half-closed. Kyle watched him as his chest rose and fell in a shaky rhythm. He began to scratch at his hand that held the IV. Kyle wanted to tell him something but he didn't know what. He looked down at his hands instead.

"Thanks for- helping me," Stan told him.

Kyle's head popped up. "What?"

"Helping."

"I only called 911."

"But you- helped- in the ambulance," Stan told him tiredly.

"Barely, I only held onto that breathing mask thing so the paramedic could start an IV on you."

Stan frowned. "You still- came. Cartman and- Kenny wouldn't have."

Kyle sighed. "Please don't get sentimental on me dude, I don't want it."

"Fine. But still- thanks."

Kyle bit his lip, he could feel his eyes sting. He wished it would go away. "When you first complained about breathing, I thought it was nothing. It's happened before, every week. But this time- well, I was pretty worried dude. You looked bad. You sounded terrible. It was like that horrible hiking trip all over again."

Stan drifted his eyes down.

"What really pisses me off dude was it could have been prevented. I could have called 911 sooner if Cartman wasn't being such an asshole," Kyle said angrily.

"No matter-what, I was still having- an asthma attack. My lung was collapsed- before you called- 911," Stan said, eyes closed now.

"But Cartman"-

"Is a fat ass, I know." It was the first sentence Stan had said that was loud and clear, even annoyed. "I'm just saying- don't feel too- guilty."

Kyle sighed. "I- I thought you might die Stan. Really. When you passed out- and just the wait for news on what happened. I thought- I thought I might lose you."

Stan blinked. "Kyle- I- I"- now Stan was the one lost for words. He thankfully didn't have time to think- the door opened and the same nurse from earlier stepped in.

"Stanley has to rest now dear. You can visit him tomorrow," the blonde woman smiled.

Kyle turned to Stan, a smile on his face. "No more pussy crap now?"

Stan held out a shaky arm and they shook. "No more."

"See you tomorrow then dude," Kyle said as if both boys weren't just talking about Stan dying. With a wave he walked out.

The nurse smiled as she walked over to Stan and began to check his vitals. "You have a very special little friend don't you dear?"

Eyes and brain too tired and heavy from this long day, Stan shut them off. "Yeah, the best."

_**End**_.

Hope you liked! My first South Park fic. It is always difficult to write the characters as close as possible to the show the first time. I tried to make Stan's asthma as realistic as possible. I hope to write more SP as the ideas come. Please review!

_Magical love: Rose February 14th 2010 ~ Happy Valentine's Day._


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